Little red book: the Michelin Guide

On the face of it, this sounds like the perfect job: paid to roam the country eating slap-up meals, quaffing the finest wines, sleeping in the best hotels.

On closer examination however,the life of an inspector of the Michelin Guide would seem to have its drawbacks. Gorging on gourmet grub for lunch and dinner five days a week, three weeks a month, eight-and-a-half months a year might get to you after a while.

It’s said that after a few years in the job, ‘glamour’ photographers start to anticipate shoots with beautiful naked women in much the same way as bank clerks look forward to seeing their in-tray filled with mortgage applications. Surely the men and women from Michelin must feel the same way about the prospect of sitting down to yetanother plate of filet de rouget barbet avec pomme bonne bouche fourée d’une brandade à la cèbe en ‘bullinada’, or cône de glace aux épices et poire williams de Chasselay rôtie au miel.

“Not at all, we are all very passionate about it,” insists Werner Loens, an inspector for 20 years before taking over as editor-in-chief of the Guide Michelin Belgique-Luxembourg.

“It is a great job, a beautiful job. Of course, it wouldn’t be sane to eat in the top restaurants every day. It’s good for the inspector to eat in a small bistro for lunch, then a two-star for dinner, then maybe a Chinese restaurant the next day.”

So the mind stays healthy, but what about the waistline? Even if you mix the foie gras and lobster with regular doses of steak-frites or dim sum, surely you’re at high risk of acquiring a Michelin-man physique on the job.

“That can be difficult for some of us. Me, for example, I’m quite a big boy,” Loens admits in a telephone interview. “But we do have some very slim inspectors. I have a colleague who’s been in the business for fifteen years, and he eats more than I do yet he stays slim. I wish I knew how he does it.”

Bible talk

Michelin are guide book pioneers. They published their first in 1900, aiming to boost the tyre business by promoting car travel in France. The star system was introduced in the 1920s and became the defining reference for roving gastronomes. But with a plethora of guides now filling bookshelves and websites to satisfy the growing ranks of the foodie public, does the red guide still hold its position as the pre-eminent arbiter of culinary taste?

“It’s of the highest importance, believe me. For me the Michelin Guide is the best reference; it’s an honour to have a star. It grants you authority, it gives you a certain way of doing things, a special way of being,” enthuses Luigi Cicirello of the Truffe Noire (below), which re-entered the Michelin constellation in the 2010 edition after four starless years.

“I’ve followed courses in the grand international schools of cuisine, and there when you talk about somebody who is 'étoilé', it’s really with respect, it’s something special, it’s something you have for life.”

Keeping up appearances

Close to Brussels’ Bois de La Cambre, Cicirello’s elegant restaurant is famed for its truffle-dominated menus and held a star for 17 years before falling into disfavour with the inspectors in 2006. In 2009 he won them over with the likes of the seven-course ‘diamond menu’, featuring noix de saint-jacques dorées à la farine de truffes; noisettes de râble de lièvre rôties au spéculoos with a truffle-infused cauliflower mousse; and crème de châtaignes aux truffes. A snip at €175 (€10 extra if you take the shavings of white truffle on your potato and pumpkin gnocchi).

“Frankly, I have to tell you I’m glad I lost the star, because it’s made it all the better to get it back. It gave even more importance to my work, my career and my restaurant,” says Cicirello.” If I lost the star it’s because I wasn’t always present, and that adds up to something. Sometimes there was something missing. What I did to win it back was to be there all the time, so I could make sure the quality was always magnificent.”

The Michelin has taken some knocks in recent years. Back in 2005, a scandal erupted in Belgium when the Ostend Queen was awarded a bib gourmand even though it hadn’t actually opened. As 50,000 copies were shredded, the guide’s impartial reputation was tarnished by talk of favours granted because of the coastal restaurant’s link with Comme Chez Soi super chef Pierre Wynants. Headline writers had a field day about Michelin being in the soup and forced to eat humble pie. That same year inspector Pascal Rémy wrote a warts-and-all book which shocked the gastronomic world in France with its claims of lax standards.

The red guides frequently come under attack for being old-fashioned and stuffy, or conversely for favouring faddish new cuisines like the recent mode for molecular cooking. While some critics allege that standards have slipped and that certain French three-stars have been granted ‘untouchable’ status, others say that the criteria for gaining a third star have become so rarefied that the only candidates which can afford to win them are restaurants backed by big hotel chains, which cover dining room losses.

Under pressure

French chef Bernard Loiseau shot himself in 2003 amidst concern that his La Côte d’Or restaurant in Burgundy could be downgraded from its three-star status. Marc Paesbrugghe decided life would be less stressful if he handed back the Michelin star granted his Sir Anthony Van Dijck restaurant in Antwerp, and two leading Italian chefs, Ezio Santin and Gualtiero Marchesi, simply renounced their star status, saying that after years at the top they no longer wanted to be subjected to Michelin scrutiny.

Loens says Michelin’s standards are as rigorous as ever and rejects claims that they favour one type of cooking over another. He says the inspectors apply five criteria across the board at all restaurants: top quality products; cooking technique; creativity; value for money and consistency, both over time and across the menu.

“We are always looking at what’s happening on the plate. You don’t always need very luxurious products. With good quality poultry or a good fresh fish you can make a very nice dish,” he says. Loens insists that all restaurants in the guide are visited at least once every 18 months, and that starred places can be seen six or seven times before a decision is taken.

“It makes me laugh when people say we are favouring fashionable cuisines, because a few years ago all the journalists were saying that the Michelin guides were old-fashioned and only full of classical cuisine,” he says. “If you look at this year’s starred restaurants, you have of course a few young cooks who do a lot of modern cuisine… I think we have varied our look at the cuisine, if it’s modern or classic or regional or Japanese or whatever.”

Brussels has been without a three-star since Comme Chez Soi slipped out of the top level in 2006, although there are rumours that that Art Nouveau temple to Belgian gastronomy may soon be heading back up.

“We had three stars for twenty-six years and lost it when I took over. In some ways that’s to be expected after a change like that,” says Lionel Rigolet, who replaced his father-in-law Pierre Wynants in the capital’s most famous kitchen.

Rigolet says losing the third star had little impact on custom. “It has an impact above all on certain foreign visitors, who when they come to Brussels absolutely want to end in a three star. Business didn’t really go down, but getting three stars is the supreme consecration for a chef and for the whole team.”

Is he hoping the scallops with ras-el-hanout, carrot froth and Espelette pepper or slices of pheasant breast with white truffle and risotto with Chinese cabbage will push them back on top?

“We can’t just be thinking that we have to do things to get the star, we have to work to respect the tradition of the house and to make our customers happy. If we do that, then the star will come all on its own.”